


(Book)Lovers

by sky_reid



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Books, Friends to Lovers, Libraries, Library Sex, M/M, Romance, and other kinds of sex, and stuff, idek, it's been too long since i've had to tag things like this, perceived age difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-13 01:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2131521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_reid/pseuds/sky_reid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwaine reads trashy novels and works at the university library (well, <i>Arthur</i> works at the university library, but that's just a technicality) and Merlin is a book loving insomniac who tends to spend his nights trying to change Gwaine's ways. Things sort of get out of hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Book)Lovers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anna_banana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anna_banana/gifts).



> it was book lovers day a few days ago but i've been internetless so i'm posting this now instead of studying for my exams yey responsibility
> 
> this is vaaaaaaaaguely set somewhere in america but since i have very little knowledge of how libraries (or america, for that matter) actually work i am sure there are plenty of inaccuracies to cringe at so if you are a librarian i'm sorry i would've done some research but again no internet. also i should point out the library in the story works 24/7 because i say so that's why
> 
> there's probably like 16 million mistakes in this but i didn't have time to check it sorry sorry sorry i'll do that when i get home k thx
> 
> if you are anna_banana: hi i don't know who you are or anything but i just wanted to say i noticed your kudos on a few of my fics so here have one as a gift idek what you like but hopefully this will be fine it was gonna be a short library sex thing bUT IT EXPLODED

 

_(Book)Lovers_

 

Gwaine looks up from where he's playing _Candy Crush_ on his phone to scan the desks in front of him. There's a reason he doesn't have a degree, he thinks, looking at the not insignificant number of students with their noses buried in books surrounding him. He likes reading as much as the next person, a trashy romance novel at the airport, a crime drama if he's bored or even the occasional poem when the mood strikes, but he's not one of those people who can't put a book down until they've finished it and he certainly can't imagine himself pulling an all-nighter in a library of all places, so he figured out early on that academia was simply not his thing. He kind of admires the decisiveness and dedication needed to finish university, the kind he doesn't have and especially didn't when he was 20 and all he wanted to do was have fun. Hell, he's 29 now and that's still true and he still doesn't know what he wants to do with his life. He kind of likes it that way though, fancies himself a free spirit, a romantic vagabond.

 

The stack of books on his left is begging to be shelved and stares at him accusingly. Or at least it would, he imagines, if it had eyes. Whatever. When he agreed to cover for Arthur, he only promised to keep an eye out for anyone drooling on a book or accidentally-on-purpose shoving it in their bag; he never agreed to any form of archiving. The truth is that he's covered so many of Arthur's shifts lately, he could probably put the books back to their places in his sleep. But he won't. It's the principle of the thing.

 

He switches a color bomb with a striped candy. His phone freezes for a few agonizing seconds and he curses under his breath. He's already wasted two lives on restarting his phone and he's on the verge of unprofessionally commandeering one of the library computers. Arthur already owes him big for sacrificing Friday night so he can get laid, but he's gonna owe him even bigger if his phone dies and he has to spend the rest of the night staring artsy misfits into submission or, heaven forbid, actually doing work. He sure hopes this Gwen girl is worth it.

 

He scans the library while he waits his phone's tantrum out. One of the kids who was lazily taking notes just a few minutes ago seems to have given up, staring straight ahead with resigned hopelessness written all over her face. She's there at night a lot, works part-time at a _Starbucks_ and a local pet shop to put herself through university and doesn't have time to study during the day and wow, Gwaine really has been spending a lot of time here. He gives the girl an encouraging smile and she smiles back before returning to her studying. Next to her, a dark-haired boy is watching the whole thing. He seems amused, maybe even endeared. Gwaine's never seen him before. He flashes him a smile too. The boy's lips quirk; he continues to smile as he goes back to his book. Gwaine gives up and restarts his phone.

 

~*~

 

Gwaine is _this_ close to deciding he needs new friends. He's only a little further away from deciding to burn down the damn library. For someone who started out with a fairly neutral attitude towards books, he's taking way too much pleasure imagining them burn. It's the second time this week that he's given in to Arthur's whinging and taken over at the library. It's only Thursday.

 

It also happens to be a slow afternoon which leaves Gwaine with no one to talk to, flirt with or even assist. He's long run out of lives in all three _Facebook_ apps he's embarrassingly hooked on, spammed Lance with enough pointless rambling texts to make him turn his phone off and provoked Morgana into two separate rants on _WhatsApp_. After a long debate with his own pride, he's even put away the returned books and entered them into the computer. He's on the verge of sending out e-mails to everyone whose books are past their due when he's saved by two books landing on the counter. He wonders when _shelving_ became the highlight of his evening.

 

“I was under the impression you were friendlier,” says the boy whose hand is still on top of the two books. He's been coming more since that first time a few weeks and Gwaine recognizes him now, though he doesn't know anything about him. He sits in a corner and reads, often late into the night. He always smiles when Gwaine looks at him. “And more blond. _Arthur_ ,” the boy adds pointedly. There's a smirk playing around his lips. Gwaine can't decide if he likes that look on him.

 

“Must've pinned the wrong name tag,” he says with an easy shrug.

 

The kid grins. “Must've,” he agrees. His fingers drum against the paperbacks and his eyes dart to the right for just an instant. Gwaine wonders if he's _nervous_. But then the fingers still and those strikingly blue eyes are back on him and the moment is gone. “So, not-Arthur,” the boy says with the face of someone who's just come to an ah-fuck-it kind of a decision, “can you help me out? Or are you just, like, a useless knock-off version?”

 

“How do you know he's not the knock-off?”

 

The boy smiles cockily. “I happen to know for a fact that Arthur _is_ actually his name,” he replies, tapping the side of his nose. He leans in and Gwaine mirrors the movement. It hits him that the kid is actually slightly taller than him. “I'm psychic,” the boy says conspiratorially. The loud bark of laughter that bubbles out of Gwaine's chest startles him. The two students reading give him dirty looks. The boy manages to keep a straight face, but Gwaine can tell it's a struggle. “No, really,” he says. “I can prove it. I'll guess your name, not-Arthur.”

 

Gwaine leans on the counter and rests his head on his hands. He looks up expectantly.

 

“Okay, okay,” the boy says. From this angle Gwaine can appreciate the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones. “I'm getting a... hmmm,” the boy makes a show of pressing to fingers to his temple, furrowing his brow and biting his lip in a look of utter concentration, “...a G maybe?” He opens one eye, looking to Gwaine for confirmation. Gwaine could tell him he's right. Or he could continue having fun. He just shrugs noncommittally. The boy huffs. “Fine,” he says. He's pouting a little. Gwaine finds it cute. “Maybe, hmm,” the boy drawls, the comical look of concentration back full force. Then he breaks out into a grin. “I _think_ it might be Gwaine.” He looks to Gwaine as if for confirmation. Gwaine is, not impressed exactly, but amused and that's more than he's been since his – _Arthur's –_ shift started so he smiles back.

 

“It would appear you have me at a disadvantage,” he says, conceding the boy's victory.

 

The boy bows with excess flourish. “The name is Merlin and I have a gift.” Gwaine snorts disbelievingly. The boy leans back over the counter, still smiling faintly. “Or, you know, the real Arthur might have mentioned you,” he admits.

 

 _Of course he did_ , Gwaine thinks. “Of course he did,” Gwaine says. Sometimes he wonders at how daft Arthur can be. “Oh, well. It's his job on the line.”

 

Merlin leans in again, stage whispers, “I don't think anyone cares,” and they both laugh as if on cue, like it's some sort of a hilarious private joke. One of the remaining students pointedly clears his throat. Gwaine pointedly ignores him. Merlin, however, looks like he's just been startled out of some sort of a dream; he stands and puts some more distance between them. “So,” he says, “ _can_ you help me find a book?”

 

Gwaine stands up to do Arthur's work.

 

~*~

 

Gwaine doesn't think Arthur's connected two whole days of work in the last three weeks. He wonders if Gwen knows he's ditching actual responsibilities to see her; she doesn't seem like the type to condone that behavior. Then again, it's not like Arthur _really_ needs the money. Gwaine won't feel remotely bad when he takes most of his paycheck at the end of the month.

 

He catalogs the three books donated by that girl whose mother is in the army (okay, seriously, he can't remember the last time he knew this much about the people at his work; he thinks at this point he knows more about the library dwellers than the regulars at his favorite bar and this is a thing that must be rectified) and goes to put them on the shelf (he hopes none of the others have told Arthur that he's started doing his job properly; he has a reputation to maintain). He turns down the _Fiction: C_ aisle. He comes up behind a girl in a tight skirt and a loose top balancing a heavy book on her head as she walks. He doesn't mean to startle her but she must hear him because she gasps softly, wobbles and drops the book. Their hands brush when they both reach down for it.

 

“I am so sorry,” she says with a sheepish smile, not quite meeting Gwaine's eyes. He's seen her before, at some of the meetings of the LGBTQ society; she seems very shy, always sticking to herself and hardly ever talking. He's seen the way she looks at one of the boys who's always late with his books and whom Gwaine doesn't know much about because people who are always late with their books are also people who don't spend a lot of time in libraries. “This is so embarrassing,” she whispers, more to herself than to him, Gwaine thinks.

 

“That depends,” Gwaine says with a smile, “were you looking for an evolution textbook in the fiction section? Because I assure you _that_ was embarrassing. And the dude was stone cold sober.” She laughs a little and Gwaine likes the sound of it. She overbalances as she stands up abruptly; Gwaine holds her up by her arm. “Easy there.”

 

“Well, I guess all that practice didn't really do me much good. Can't even stand in heels, pretty sure walking is out of the question.” She's taller than Gwaine like this, with legs that go on for miles and broad shoulders. When she looks at him, he sees her eyes are the lightest green and the contrast between them and her dark skin is striking. Her hair is long and it falls in her face a little, but she doesn't hide behind it like she used to the first week of last semester when Gwaine first saw her and he feels proud of her though he doesn't even know her name.

 

“It's harder than it looks,” he replies seriously. “Don't try it when you're drunk.” That earns him another smile. He holds out a hand. She seems unsure for a second, but takes it anyway. He puts his other hand on her back and guides her down the aisle. She is not entirely stable, but she doesn't trip or falter once and anyone who can walk like that in heels that high is a winner in Gwaine's book. “See, you're not bad at all,” he says.

 

“Thanks.” He watches her walk away, still looking a bit uncomfortable with the sway of her hips. He hopes the boy appreciates her the way she deserves.

 

“You pretend you're cool but you're really just a big softie,” someone says behind him. Gwaine doesn't have to look to recognize Merlin's voice anymore.

 

“Not mutually exclusive, those.” Merlin is leaning against the shelf behind him, a book with a colorful cover in his hand. The jut of his hip is beginning for Gwaine's hand on it. “Did you need anything, Merlin?” he asks, knowing full well that Merlin didn't. It's kind of fun to watch the reaction, the way Merlin looks down quickly, the bob of his Adam's apple when he swallows, the slightest blush that rises in his cheeks. To his credit, Merlin doesn't even try to lie.

 

“Not really,” he says and the steadiness of his voice surprises Gwaine. “I'm just bored.”

 

“So you've come to pester me?”

 

Merlin grins. “'Twas either you or that creepy old dude who hangs around the library all the time. Oh wait.” Gwaine swats at his head. Merlin ducks out of reach, already expecting that.

 

~*~

 

It's a busy night. Not only is the reading area twice as packed as it usually is at this time but there are also three carts of new books that still need to be entered into the system, given a spot on the shelf and put on it in addition to the pile of books he's just had dumped on him. Two of their computers have picked the wrong night to have a fit so he keeps having to run over and quite literally beat them into submission. He's been checking sociology and statistics books out at a steady pace for the last hour or so; he figures something must be happening in those departments tomorrow.

 

He's so busy that he doesn't even notice Merlin's there until the lull at around 5am when those who need sleep have left and those who won't sleep have settled into their seats with sharpies and paper sheets all around them. It takes him a minute to realize Merlin is alphabetizing the returned books and separating them according to the shelves they'll be going to. Gwaine could kiss him. “You're a godsend,” he says instead. His voice is surprisingly loud now that everything's gone quiet.

 

Merlin snorts. “I'll remind you that you said that the next time you call me a menace.” He looks at Gwaine over the worryingly leaning tower of books on the counter. Gwaine smiles. “I'm gonna take these away,” Merlin says then, taking one of the stacks and heading for the bookshelves.

 

They don't talk for a while after that. Merlin takes the books to their places, one stack after the other, while Gwaine gets started on entering the new books into the system. Merlin starts handing him books at some point. They get it all done faster than Gwaine had expected, but it's still the end of Gwaine's – _Arthur's_ – shift and Ellie is already there, waiting to take over. They walk out into the grey light of a moody early morning together. Merlin covers his eyes with a groan.

 

“Ugh, who turned up the lights?” he complains.

 

Gwaine laughs. He's not a morning person, never really was, but this is still a late night on his schedule. “What are you, hungover?” he teases.

 

“Haven't slept in days.”

 

“Didn't have to stay if you had things to do,” Gwaine says, suddenly realizing how odd it is that Merlin spends his nights reading or shelving fiction even when the rest of the students are clearly busy studying with single-minded purpose.

 

“Nah, it's fine,” Merlin waves a hand dismissively in the air. In response to Gwaine's raised eyebrows, he just says, “Insomnia.” He does look a little more worn and pale, but he also looks a little apprehensive as he waits for Gwaine's reaction. Gwaine doesn't offer sympathy, just nods. Merlin seems pleased.

 

“No tests for you tomorrow then?” Gwaine asks, realizing for the first time he doesn't even know what Merlin is studying. Usually he gets a pretty good idea of what someone is majoring in based on the books they check out, but Merlin only ever picks fiction so Gwaine is in the dark so far.

 

Merlin seems to be struggling not to laugh. “Not a student, mate,” he finally says. Gwaine almost trips over his own feet. “I teach drama.” Gwaine thinks his face must be a picture, because Merlin is chuckling under his breath. “It's okay, you're not the first to assume I'm younger. At least you are not one of my students.”

 

Gwaine finally recovers his footing. “Yeah, well, now that I know the kind of faculty this university has, I might just sign up,” he teases with a wink. Merlin's face seems stuck between panic and delight. Gwaine likes it.

 

~*~

 

“How do you work in a library and never read?” Merlin asks. He's returning four books a whole week earlier than they're due. Gwaine is actually impressed.

 

“I don't work in a library.” Merlin rolls his eyes. Gwaine grins. “And I do read.”

 

“Yeah?” Merlin prompts, settling against Gwaine's counter while Gwaine enters the returns into the computer. He looks so eager that Gwaine wishes he _was_ one of those people who swallow book after book and can't wait to talk about them.

 

“Yeah, man, those _50 Shades_ books really rocked my world,” he replies, just to see Merlin's reaction.

 

Predictably, Merlin makes a face at him. He looks worryingly like Morgana when she's just about to give a 15-minute presentation on _Reasons Why You Are All WRONG_ complete with a PowerPoint. Gwaine sees the exact moment he decides that even Gwaine is not _that_ thick and must be joking. He still can't resist saying, “Those books are an insult to the world.”

 

“You're too easy.”

 

Merlin wiggles his eyebrows. “Maybe,” he says cryptically. Gwaine kind of wants to know for sure. He lets his eyes linger on Merlin's mouth for a few moments too long. He doesn't know if Merlin bites his lip on purpose or unconsciously. “So what _do_ you read?”

 

It takes Gwaine a few seconds to catch up to the conversation. “Oh, I don't know. Crime novels, mostly. Although I have read quite a number of romance trash, I'm not even gonna lie.” He's not ashamed of his reading habits or lack thereof (makes a point of not being ashamed of anything he enjoys), but he absolutely expects Merlin to judge him. Merlin doesn't.

 

“Oh, that's cool,” he says. He seems just so _happy_ to be able to talk about something he enjoys. “What are you reading right now?”

 

Gwaine thinks back to the book resting on his coffee table. He's been on-and-off reading it for months, getting distracted by other things and then forgetting where he was and having to reread the last dozen or so pages. There's nothing particularly wrong with the book, but like most others, it just doesn't hold his attention. He barely even remembers the title. “I think it's called _The Hypnotizer_.”

 

Merlin's face practically lights up at that. “By Lars Kepler? I've been meaning to read that.”

 

“Yeah, well, no rush. I haven't finished it either.”

 

But it's too late, Merlin's already a bouncing ball of positive energy and it's infectious. Merlin checks the library's copy of _The Hypnotizer_  out when he leaves.

 

It all kind of devolves from there. Merlin reads every book Gwaine comes up with, can write an essay on it often before Gwaine himself has finished it. Sometimes he leaves little notes in the books he returns for Gwaine to find, with ID numbers of books the library holds or titles that he expects Gwaine to look up. Gwaine doesn't finish most of the books Merlin comes up with, but it doesn't seem to be a problem; Merlin seems content to do most of the talking while Gwaine just nods along, mostly aware of what Merlin is talking about at least. When he does read, he mostly disagrees with Merlin; and even when he doesn't, he pretends to. Merlin starts to leave longer titles, more serious books and authors Gwaine recognizes from being threatened with during his childhood. At first Gwaine categorically refuses to read anything not either cheesy or written in the last decade or possibly both. Eventually he gives in. He ends up reading _Crime and Punishment_ and it's not his favorite but he's not bored to tears either, which Merlin mistakenly takes for _carte blanche_ to give him anything he feels like talking about. He only really ends up liking this one book about a bridge on a river whose name he can't pronounce, written by an author whose name he doesn't even try to pronounce, but he also discovers he's rather fond of historical novels. He argues with Merlin over Cameron vs. Pressfield many a time, usually in the middle of the night when no one is there because they learn early on that they can't have those kinds of conversations in hushed whispers and because Gwaine doesn't actually want Arthur to be fired because somebody complained about _him_. It becomes kind of a thing between them and god help him but he actually ends up looking forward to Arthur inevitably complaining about having to drag his ass to work so he can offer to cover for him. Arthur would probably give him shit for his eagerness but he doesn't even notice because he's in love too.

 

~*~

 

Gwaine really should find a job. Sure, playing librarian on a regular basis has turned out to be a hell of a lot better than he'd originally anticipated and taking most of Arthur's pay is fun, but the holidays are coming up and there is only so much money he can hustle from unsuspecting pool players at the pub before they become suspecting pool players at the pub and he's getting punched in the face. Besides, there _are_ actually benefits to being properly employed. He seriously considers sending in an application to the university (he's been around long enough that the hipsters who come out at night know him by name and Hannah who usually works the shifts before his has made him his own name tag), but eventually decides against it because despite what Arthur might think, he's actually the very best best friend.

 

He stares despondently at the CV he'd uploaded to his drive, wondering if the colorful mish-mash of his work experience can be taken as a variety of interests or if it's a clear indication of a lack of focus. He'd remove the irrelevant bullet points, except he doesn't actually know which those are exactly because he doesn't actually know what he wants to do. He thinks he might go back to bar tending. Bar tending was fun. He wonders if Merlin would substitute the quiet of the library for the gurgling of random drunks just to keep him company.

 

The finals are coming up so virtually every seat in the reading area is taken and there are quite a few students milling about with dead eyes and armfuls of heavy books. Still, Gwaine is reasonably certain that the reason he can't see Merlin anywhere is that he's not there. Gwaine might be checking a bit too often. It's not like Merlin is always there (at least to Gwaine's knowledge; he's always there when Gwaine's working but the few times he asks Arthur about a tall teacher who looks more like an awkward student with his tight clothes and colorful plaid shirts and sharp cheekbones and soft lips and hypnotizing eyes – Arthur only laughs a little and Gwaine knew there was a reason they were friends – Arthur has no idea who he's talking about) and it's not like Gwaine can't manage without his constant presence on the other side of the counter (except the returned books are piling up and Gwaine's played more _Candy Crush_ in the last three hours than he has in all the months he's known Merlin put together) and it's not like anything is _wrong_ per se (just a little bit off), it's just that, well, he's done his reading for the week for the first time in forever ( _The Damned Yard_ by that same dude who wrote his thus far favorite book and whose name he can't begin to say out loud and who's quickly becoming his favorite author and when did Gwaine even start caring enough to have a favorite author) and he actually has things to say. And Merlin is not there. Gwaine's grown used to their shameless flirting. It's kind of boring without it.

 

“Excuse me?” someone says, startling Gwaine out of his inner monologue on the comparative analysis of the leitmotifs and styles of the two works of this author (and Christ, he actually knows the _terminology_ now too). The mousy boy from engineering who made the mistake of his life taking French and has spent every other day since in the library, sighing obnoxiously while giving the air what looks like the most awkward blowjob ever is looking at him expectantly.

 

Gwaine turns on the charm and gives the kid his most dazzling smile. “What can I do for you today?” he asks. The boy's shoulders relax. Gwaine's mood lifts a bit. They're good kids, all these stressed out zombies and he's gonna miss being able to help them, however little, with books and confidence and relaxing and even the odd erection or two he's taken care of behind bookshelves that haven't been touched in so long there's a fine layer of dust on them.

 

“Um, well, I really need _Galaxy Formation and Evolution,_ ” this kid is apparently just _that_ bad at picking electives, “and I can't seem to find it. I've looked under _M,_ _V_ _and W_ but it's not there and I'm sure I've seen it before.”

 

“Yeah, we have it,” Gwaine says, already getting out from behind the counter and heading for the non-fiction section. It takes him a while to find the book, the only copy they still have, and when he does it's under _B_ because _someone_ (Gwaine would bet it was Arthur but Arthur hasn't actually been to work in more than a week) is apparently an idiot.

 

By the time he gets back to his chair, there are three girls waiting to check their books out and a number of books have been hastily added to the wobbly pile of returns. He apologizes and quickly clears them all; the girls scatter off murmuring to each other. Gwaine pulls up his CV again. Then he notices that one of the returned books is _The Damned Yard_. His heart doesn't really skip a beat and his palms aren't immediately sweaty like in the romance novels that Merlin has slowly weaned him off of, but it's a damn near thing. He's known he's been falling for Merlin pretty much all along but he doesn't realize until right then just how gone he is. He picks the book up and takes out the little note tucked between pages 29 and 30. It's a series of hastily written numbers, barely legible at all. Gwaine recognizes it though. Arthur has literally had nightmares about it when the stupid movie first came out, mumbling the sequence in his sleep and Gwaine laughed at him in the mornings. Somehow the number stuck around in his head. He hasn't pulled the book himself but he remembers Arthur complaining that he had checked out all of the copies in two short days even though no one had even asked for the book in years before that. He's pretty sure it's the special annotated bilingual edition of _Les Miserables_ and he sincerely hopes Merlin is joking.

 

He wishes Merlin had waited for him especially since there seems to be a lull in the activity around him. He checks again that there are no fires, literal or figurative, to be put out. Then he heads to the far back of the library where the book is kept. He figures he might be wrong about what it is, but when he finds it, the numbers are there black on white. The book weighs a ton. Gwaine eyes it like it might grow teeth and bite his head off. Somebody pads quickly up to him. He turns to find a slightly out of breath and definitely flushed Merlin. He doesn't even try to stop his eyes from wondering down Merlin's neck and watching his chest rise and fall quickly. He cocks a questioning eyebrow. He means for it to be about the book.

 

“Oh, thank god,” Merlin replies instead.

 

And because Gwaine can't resist, he says, “Well, Victor Hugo, really, but I'm not gonna judge your religious affiliations.”

 

“I thought I was being really clever,” Merlin continues like Gwaine said nothing, “leaving the book there and then coming out here to wait for you, and then I realized how busy it is today and that you might not even notice or just decide not to check it out immediately because why would you, the joke was that you would never take this book but I only gave you numbers and I'm not sure why I thought that was a brilliant plan,” Merlin only pauses to gulp down a deep breath and Gwaine is not sure what is happening but Merlin is flustered and it's proper endearing, “so I went back to the front and you weren't there, so I went to run back here except I remembered that it's a library and I'm not supposed to be running.” Gwaine hopes his grin doesn't look as silly as it feels. But then, even if it does, Merlin probably still has him beat at ridiculous facial expressions right now.

 

“ _What_ are you on about?” he asks, cracking up in the middle of the sentence.

 

“I was gonna be here, you know,” Merlin says almost apologetically. His breathing is evening out, but the flush on his cheeks isn't gone and Gwaine has a strong urge to run his thumbs gently over it. Something about Merlin's expression tells him that that might actually be where they're going with this. “Because it's the end of the year and all, and soon you won't be working here anymore— well, Arthur won't be working here anymore but whatever, so I was gonna be here and do something funny and charming and you were gonna kiss me,” Gwaine's eyebrows go up, “but then I thought, what if I had misinterpreted everything and we haven't been flirting all this time and I'm just making a fool of myself?” Gwaine opens his mouth to say _something_ , but Merlin keeps talking over him; he puts the book back on the shelf instead because his arms are beginning to hurt and he's gonna need them for what he plans to do next. “So I tried to distract myself with preparing the finals and well, that worked a bit too well, I guess, so—“

 

“Merlin,” Gwaine interrupts as loudly as he dares. Merlin looks at him, eyes wide and fingers tapping in a mindless rhythm against his thigh. He looks so young. “Shut up,” Gwaine says with a grin before grabbing a fistful of Merlin's open flannel shirt and pulling him close. He feels Merlin's gasp and watches his eyelashes flutter and his eyes close. He runs the tip of his nose over the side of Merlin's and then Merlin is grabbing him by the neck and pulling him closer with surprising strength. Gwaine manages a laugh before Merlin seals their lips together and kisses him without hesitation. It's heated and quick and hot and maybe a little frustrated; Merlin nips at Gwaine's lips and licks into his mouth and his fingers are pressing harshly against Gwaine's spine. Gwaine responds lazily, trying to slow everything down just to contradict Merlin's fervor; his hands slide down to Merlin's waist where he rubs slow circles with his thumbs over Merlin's ribs, feeling the worn cotton of Merlin's t-shirt underneath. Merlin makes a frustrated noise in his throat. He scratches at Gwaine's neck before shoving him against the bookshelf behind him. Merlin pins him against the books with his hands and shoulders and hips and kisses the living daylights out of him. Gwaine manages a few breathy laughs throughout; they only serve to spur Merlin on and in the end Gwaine is kissing back with equal passion. Merlin shoves him harder against the bookcase one last time, before pulling back, lips red and wet and inviting. Gwaine leans in to steal another quick kiss. Merlin whines a little and buries his face in Gwaine's neck, his hands resting on Gwaine's chest.

 

“I've wanted to do that since I first saw you,” he says quietly. He seems to have lost steam. “I don't even know how many times I've talked myself in and out of it.”

 

“I'm happy for you,” Gwaine replies, brushing a smiling kiss against Merlin's temple, “and I'mma let you finish,” he feels Merlin's answering smile against his shoulder, “but the library is having one of its best nights this year.”

 

“Right,” Merlin agrees. “I should let you get back to _your_ work.” He steps back with a sigh, his hands still glued to Gwaine's chest like he can't make them move. “I have exam questions to write anyway.”

 

“Right,” Gwaine echoes. He wraps his fingers around Merlin's and squeezes. He feels giddy and a little high on adrenaline. And maybe feelings.

 

“I'll call you,” Merlin says, tearing himself away. Then he changes his mind and leans in for another kiss. He takes a few steps down the aisle before turning back around. “I don't have your number,” he says flatly. Their eyes meet and they both double over laughing.

 

~*~

 

It's ungodly warm and the tree bark is rough under Gwaine's hands but he's got Merlin squirming under him, gasping into his mouth and gripping onto his shoulders, so he figures he has nothing to complain about. It's been days and still every kiss they steal in the library and out of it is just as heated and leaves Gwaine just as dazed. There aren't that many so far, not nearly as many as Gwaine would like (not when he could happily spend the rest of his life kissing Merlin), a few that they manage to sneak in when Merlin comes to see Gwaine at work and a few more while Gwaine is walking him home from campus and then a few more in front of Merlin's apartment. Merlin's busy, consultations and preparations and exams taking up most of his day and leaving him exhausted. Gwaine respects that even if it gives him the worst case of blue balls he's ever had. One night, Merlin drags Gwaine into his _eclectically decorated_ (Merlin's words, not his) shoebox of an apartment, shoves him against the door and immediately goes to work on Gwaine's jeans. They trade quick handjobs and lazy kisses and then Merlin kicks him out because he has to mark the mock exams he handed out earlier that week and how dare Gwaine distract him.

 

One of Merlin's hands rucks Gwaine's t-shirt up so he can trace his fingers over Gwaine's abs. It tickles a little and the gentleness of it is in complete contrast to the way Merlin is letting him practically fuck his mouth with his tongue. Merlin whines a high note into Gwaine's mouth. Gwaine needs to pause for breath.

 

“I don't know what Arthur's paying you,” Merlin pants, “but remind me to thank him.”

 

“Sexual favors and a percentage,” Gwaine deadpans, diving in for another kiss.

 

Merlin hums, keeps the kiss on the verge of chaste. “Sounds like a deal I need to get in on.”

 

“No objections here.” Gwaine presses against Merlin fully loving the soft gasp that drags out of him, the involuntary flutter of his lashes. He can feel the subtle movement of Merlin's hips. _Soon_ , he tells himself.

 

Merlin pushes off the tree trunk and flips them around. Gwaine lands on the tree painfully hard but Merlin is kissing him before he can think to react. “I took a job in a bakery,” Merlin pants against his lips. “Start Monday morning after school.”

 

“Morning's gonna cost you more,” Gwaine says on a moan when Merlin nibbles on his ear.

 

“Not gonna be a problem.” Merlin grins wickedly. He glances around them quickly, then drops to his knees. Gwaine's head falls back against the tree.

 

He's not too concerned, but he figures someone has to say that, “Anyone could walk by.” The area of the park they're in is dark and secluded, surrounded by bushes and trees everywhere but behind him and it's that weird time of the night when people have either already gotten home or have just left it, but they're still close to the campus; he might have nothing to lose, but Merlin does.

 

Merlin groans. He rests his forehead against Gwaine's stomach and Gwaine laughs. He combs through Merlin's hair gently. “I hate everything,” Merlin laments as he gets back to his feet.

 

~*~

 

The bookshelf thumps against the wall behind it and a few books on top slide closer to the edge but even if they were all to fall down that instant, Gwaine would not care. He tilts Merlin's head back and starts kissing down his neck.

 

“It's finally fucking over,” Merlin babbles, his hands uselessly roaming over Gwaine's shoulders and back, “so fucking tired, god, gonna sleep for days when I get home.”

 

Gwaine bites at his jaw. “Already thinking about getting away from me, are you?” he teases.

 

Merlin doesn't seem to notice or care about what Gwaine is saying, laces his fingers through Gwaine's hair and pulls on it until they're face to face again and Merlin kisses him sloppily. “Always wanted to make out in a library,” he says quietly then, like it's a big secret and no one else can know about it. “Feel the books under my back and get off with unsuspecting kids studying all around me.”

 

“No one's here,” Gwaine reminds him.

 

Merlin rolls his eyes. “Don't ruin it.” Gwaine kisses the pout from his lips. He wants to keep kissing Merlin, taste the coffee he's been overdosing on for days and bite the lips Merlin's already bitten raw himself, but Merlin pushes at his chest and just continues talking. “Dozens of them, just reading their books and taking notes and looking for _you_ to help them,” he says in one breath, words so close together Gwaine is surprised he can still make sense of the sentence. He lets his hands slip under Merlin's t-shirt, finds warm and sweat-damp skin underneath. He squeezes around Merlin's waist and buries his face back in Merlin's neck. He can feel the muscles there moving as Merlin continues to talk. “And we'd have to be quick and quiet and careful and _fuuuuuck_.”

 

Gwaine lifts Merlin up and presses their hips together hard; Merlin's legs wrap around his waist immediately. He's pretty sure the whole shelf is leaning slightly backwards and he hopes to god nothing falls on their heads as he starts rutting against Merlin. Merlin does stop talking then, letting out a string of curses and moans and helpless little gasps instead. Gwaine wants to record them so he can play them on repeat for the rest of his life.

 

He's starting to breathe harder, the heat of their bodies mingling and making him sweat. One of Merlin's hands is on his face and it's literally shaking and Gwaine really wishes he had thought to wear (or buy for that matter) pretty much anything other than jeans. They're tight and harsh and he can hardly feel the way Merlin's trying to arch into him. He wants to reach down and do _something_ but he doesn't think he can hold Merlin up with only one arm. Luckily Merlin seems to be on the same page as he snakes a hand between them and goes straight for Gwaine's belt. He fumbles around for a while before letting out a frustrated sigh and thumping his head against the encyclopedia behind him.

 

“I don't think no sleep plus too much coffee plus a raging hard-on equals a functioning me,” he manages, breathy and laughing a little. Gwaine stills, rests his forehead against Merlin's collarbone. The shelf wobbles behind them. They should stop. Merlin is so tired and high on caffeine he has no idea what he's saying anymore and Gwaine thinks he might pass out if this drags on too long and Gwaine still has about a hundred late books to inventory and he should probably let Merlin go home and have some rest before joining him. But.

 

“Try not to fall,” he says. Merlin shoves a few books around and grabs onto the shelf behind him. Gwaine helps hold him up with one hand on his ass while he undoes their belts and jeans with the other.

 

“Impressive,” Merlin says, voice a little rougher than usual. Gwaine looks up at him. Merlin's cheeks are flushed, his lips wet and swollen and his eyes a little glassy before they close slowly as Gwaine leans in. It starts out slow this time, lazy brushes of lips and tongues, Merlin's hand on the back of Gwaine's neck and Gwaine's arm around Merlin's waist; and then Merlin pulls him closer with his legs still locked around Gwaine's hips and they're both gasping because it's so much better now with so little fabric between them. Gwaine can feel the hard line of Merlin's cock against his and when he shifts a little to the side they fit together so perfectly; Merlin turns his head to the side and breathes harshly against the leather cover of some special edition or another and Gwaine hopes there's never a time he can't remember this moment. He mouths against Merlin's cheek and the side of his neck as he begins to move and finds a good rhythm.

 

Merlin's shirt rides up to reveal the soft skin of his flat belly and some time soon Gwaine is gonna leave a mark there but right now all he does is thrust against Merlin harder. The shelf squeaks.

 

“Fuck,” Merlin breathes. He's looking between them with a fascinated expression. Gwaine presses their foreheads together and looks down as well. Merlin rolls his hips against him and Gwaine can just about make out the head of his cock almost peeking out from his briefs. His mouth waters as he watches them moving together; he imagines how much better it's gonna be when he has the time to first strip Merlin out of his ridiculously tight clothes and then do this again naked. Merlin's head falls against his shoulder. “Faster,” he moans, barely audible. Gwaine obliges.

 

He can't see much other than the light bruise he bit into Merlin's neck earlier after that, but he can feel Merlin falling apart in his arms, the way he shakes and the way he can't do anything other than rest his arms around Gwaine's neck and the way he can't seem to decide if he wants to press wet, open-mouthed kisses agains Gwaine's skin or whisper curses in his ear. He starts moving faster despite the shelf's protests. There's absolutely no finesse or technique to anything they're doing, just heat and friction and not nearly enough skin and Gwaine has no idea why it's so hot, but he's already close and they've yet to knock a single book to the floor.

 

Merlin hums against the shell of his ear, his breath tickling. “'Mmmm gonna come,” he says, his voice breaking a little. Gwaine only moans in response. He doesn't get more than a few more thrusts before Merlin's nails are digging into his shoulders. Merlin makes an incoherent noise as his sweaty forehead presses against Gwaine's temple. “Keep going,” he says when Gwaine slows down. He sounds sleepy and dazed and he's draped over Gwaine, completely relying on him to stay up. Gwaine thrusts against Merlin a few times experimentally. Merlin grabs his hip. “Ow, okay, okay, wait, stop.” Gwaine stills immediately.

 

It takes Merlin a few tries before he manages to untangle his long limbs from Gwaine and find his feet. He's still leaning against the bookshelf, doesn't look like he could stand on his own, and Gwaine can't resist kissing him slowly and gently. Merlin manages to lower the waistband of his briefs enough to wrap a hand loosely around Gwaine's cock. Gwaine sighs into his mouth.

 

Merlin doesn't seem capable of doing much else so Gwaine fucks into his hand gently at first, then faster. It's not the best handjob he's ever received but the state he's in now, anything would probably do the job, so he keeps going. Merlin wraps his fingers around him tighter and smiles against his lips.

 

He presses an insistent finger against Gwaine's chin, makes him look up. “Come on,” he says, “wanna see you come.”

 

Gwaine groans and closes his eyes. He's close and when Merlin actually gathers himself enough to start jerking him off and puts a twist to his hand, it's not long before he's coming with a moan that Merlin drinks from his lips. He paints the exposed strip of Merlin's stomach and the lower half of his t-shirt and he would laugh at the face Merlin makes when he notices, but he's still a bit out of breath.

 

They stand holding each other up until Gwaine's heartbeat is back to normal and he's fairly sure Merlin won't fall if he steps back. The shelf gives one final creak as Merlin pushes himself off of it. “I kind of hate you,” he says, looking down at himself as he does his jeans up and starts buttoning his shirt at the bottom. “You're lucky i have a shirt.” Gwaine does laugh then.

 

They head back out. It's not exactly the right time, but Gwaine hears himself saying, “So there's this cute little Italian place opening on my street.” They haven't talked about what exactly they are now, which is fine because Gwaine doesn't like putting labels on anything anyway, but they also haven't gone out on a proper date yet and well, Gwaine is a bit less fine with that. He looks sideways at Merlin. Merlin looks on the verge of toppling over but he's also smiling at his shoes so Gwaine figures he did something right. He looks away and smiles too.

 

“How about Chinese at my place?” Merlin suggests instead. “But in a few days. When I've had more than 2 hours of sleep.”

 

The rejection is as obvious as the invitation was, but that's okay. Gwaine's never been anything less than satisfied in any of his other friends-with-benefits deals.

 

~*~

 

Gwaine is already turning onto Merlin's street when his phone rings. Merlin's name flashes from the screen. “Yeah?” he answers.

 

“So it just occurred to me that that thing in the library might possibly have been you asking me out on a date,” Merlin says without preamble. Gwaine can hear the sheepish smile in his voice. He covers his mouth with his hand so Merlin can't hear him laughing. “And if that _is_ the case then yes, I would love to go out with you, but I've also already ordered Chinese and bought lube so you should still come over tonight.”

 

Gwaine buzzes at Merlin's door with a ridiculously fond smile on his face.

 

**Author's Note:**

> (the book merlin recommends that gwaine ends up liking is ivo andric's _the bridge on the drina_ and it _is_ actually a great book)


End file.
